


Escape

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Shinra Company, Shinra Electric Power Company Science Department, mention of Aeris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: Sephiroth, as a child, in the Shinra building.
Relationships: Ifalna & Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Written a couple of months ago. Was intended to slot into the middle of 'Different from the Others' and then it expanded into its own thing squishing a bunch of vague thoughts I had together.

Alarms wailing, red lights. Shouts from above.

A prisoner had escaped.

Or, was escaping. Because 8 year old Sephiroth saw men in armour, carrying guns, rushing up the stairs, and he assumed there wasn't much point if the prisoner had already got out of the building. Sephiroth had been sitting at a table on the 55th floor, with his tutor, learning about how President Shinra was directly descended from the old kings of Kalm and how this made him wise, when the trouble had started. Bangs and explosions. Now, Sephiroth turned in his seat, peeking over the chairback to see.

"Don't be frightened." Sephiroth's tutor misread his curiosity as fear. Sephiroth was a bit annoyed that the man thought he was frightened of something stupid like that-- but on the other hand, it was nice of him to _not_ want Sephiroth to be scared. Hojo had a thing he called cortisol experiments and _those_ were scary. Three times a month, 1pm, 2pm, 4pm and repeat; 5 days between the first two, 7 between the others; Sephiroth pretended to be ignorant of the pattern, because otherwise they'd change it. He didn't dare pretend to be sick (they'd probably catch on; they spent a lot of time measuring him). They said he had a 'powerful stress response'. He didn't feel very powerful.

But that was how the scientists talked. Heads down, pens scratching; most of them didn't even say hello to him. Sometimes Sephiroth would start a conversation, just to watch them squirm. He didn't know why they disliked him so much, but at least he could use it. Over time, he'd discovered a few phrases that really got them flustered. He couldn't do a lot, but when his eyes were wet and his throat was raw from screaming, and the machines powered down and the scientist of the day stood up to leave, he could at least take that tiny revenge

"Let me out! I want to go outside!" he would say

or, better, "It hurts!"

or, his personal favourite: "Mom! _Mom_!"

They really didn't like that one.

As it happened, he didn't think of Jenova as 'mom'; she was always 'mother'. It was the Ancient girl he'd got it from; he'd seen what had happened when the soldiers had decided it was time for she and _her_ mother to have separate cells. Sephiroth hadn't known a creature so small could _bellow_. The soldiers had ended up fighting among themselves, and finally, they'd relented, and let the Ancients stay together. So Sephiroth made a study of it. The staff perceived him as a child, and this had always upset him because they wouldn't take him seriously as an adult-- but now he saw that children had ways of getting what they wanted which were unavailable to adults. And he knew he could make himself cry by thinking about sad things. He secretly bet his tutor would give him toast if he made himself cry.

But... he wouldn't. He felt that was undignified. He'd seen the president's son weeping, once, telling anyone who'd listen how he missed his mother, he missed her so much, he missed her so badly he could just _die_ , and on, and on, red in the face, nose glistening-- and they'd _showered_ him with sweets, toys, presents, 'oh, do stop crying Rufus', 'look, Rufus, it's horsey, say hello to horsey!', 'oh, there there, love, there there', and Sephiroth had stood back and coolly watched the whole thing. Later, when the crowd had dispersed and Rufus was munching on the third of many bars of chocolate-- chocolate!--, he'd noticed Sephiroth watching.

"What's your problem?" Rufus had said.

"It was a good performance," said Sephiroth, with a shrug, and, credit where it was due; Rufus had given him a gummy worm. It tasted good. Sephiroth could see the logic. But privately, he felt he had a bit more pride than that. Crying 'mom!' in a moment of pain and anger was one thing, but...

Well, Rufus must have seen the look on Sephiroth's face at the time, because he just said, "Gummy worm's a gummy worm." Rufus' Turk had looked equal parts exasperated and proud, Sephiroth's handler had noticed Sephiroth was eating unauthorized sweets and had quickly bundled him out of the room, and that had been that.

Anyway, shouting 'mom!' was one thing, but Sephiroth kept _Jenova_ fierce and close. She wasn't something to be shared, not least because of the embarrassment. Jenova was Ifalna, was everything she was to her girl, was everything a mother _should_ be, was everything his mother probably wasn't because what kind of mother would have left him in the care of the Shinra Science Department--

Sephiroth stopped himself, gripping the chairback. Those kinds of thoughts led to punching holes in walls and smashing tables in two. He'd stamped down, last week, and broken a tile in the corridor. The adults had looked frightened. He'd known they were thinking of the incident with the ex-deputy Head of Science, the snap of bone. After that one, they'd started sedating him before his mako shots.

"I need a walk," said Sephiroth, getting up.

"Um..." said his tutor. "A prisoner has escaped, I should probably..."

"I need a walk," Sephiroth repeated.

The tutor nodded, nervous. It was the agreement.

_'Powerful stress response', 'emotionally atypical', 'heightened aggression'_

Sephiroth headed for the stairs. He'd climb, tire himself out, and if that didn't work, he'd go right back down again, and up, and down, until he was done. That was the agreement; he got to go on walks, as long as he took them when he needed to. He wondered about leaving through the front doors, run and keep running-- but where would he go? And Shinra would find him. No other kids had white hair. They'd find him, and bring him back; he was stuck here forever, with his imaginary mother and his fantasies about being family to the Ancients.

He bit the inside of his cheek. Ifalna always looked at him much the same way the other adults did-- warily; she'd pull her daughter close-- but in his head, he went over it over and over; they'd sit together, and at first yes she would be wary, but he'd explain, explain... _himself_... and then he'd say something about this or that book and then suddenly her face would clear and she'd go 'that's exactly right!' and then they'd be _friends_ and after that they'd talk about everything (but mostly books) and she'd proudly say that her baby was his little sister now-- and he _loved_ these fantasies, but at the same time sometimes he'd realise what he was thinking and then he'd feel a rock stuck in his throat and _searing_ embarrassment because they were _real_ people, they didn't like him, he was nothing to them and he would never be family, and his dreams were pathetic.

Sephiroth wiped his eyes with his sleeve and ducked into the main stairway. He went up a couple of floors. He wished the alarms would stop; he already had a headache from crying, but they clamoured at his ears, along with the shouting overhead, cries of: "Where _are_ they?"

He didn't want to go any higher; the noise would be worse. His hearing was better than other people's. The lights overhead were too bright; he looked down, at the tiles under his feet, but the reflections there were too bright also, gleaming red.

' _Hypersaturation_ '

Instead, he set off down the corridor. If you took the right turns, you could get to a second stairway, a secret one, which was dark and quiet and which everyone else ignored. You needed a passcode to get in, but Sephiroth knew most of the Shinra building passcodes by now. He was good at remembering numbers. Unusually good, according to his tutor. Well, they all said he was special. He wished he wasn't. The scientists found special things interesting.

He turned the corner to the secret stairway, and saw them, huddled against the wall.

Ifalna and her daughter.

Ifalna didn't see him. She was bending over the keypad, hair falling in front of her face, dress torn, eyes frantic. The girl was gripping her leg.

 _She doesn't know the code!_ Sephiroth realised.

Sephiroth opened his mouth to tell her-- and then paused. She would leave. Forever.

The soldiers' boots thumped overhead.

She made things beautiful. Little things, like leaving cut flowers in the corridors. The way she wore her hair, and her red and purple dress.

_She's the only beautiful thing in the world_

Sephiroth heard footsteps behind him. There was still time. He could distract the person, go to Ifalna, give her the code; she could take him with her.

He imagined it. His throat closed. "Take me with you!" he'd say, and she'd look at him, thrown, and then there'd be that fake smile, and maybe she'd say 'of course' because she needed to protect her child and it was best just to go along for now, but she wouldn't _want_ him there, and it wouldn't be about not being wanted, it would be about having that one moment where it was _confirmed_ , that dreadful look, when he'd know he was despised, he couldn't bear to be looked at like that, so instead...

Instead he stood there. And the soldiers rushed past, and Ifalna _screamed_ , and Sephiroth regretted it instantly, but it was too late and now the child was screaming too and the soldiers marched the pair of them back upstairs, Ifalna's arm twisted behind her back, and in moments the stairway was silent again.


End file.
